


Exception

by 50artists



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), F/M, Gender-Neutral Courier (Fallout), M/M, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50artists/pseuds/50artists
Summary: No one likes getting shot through the head.Few people hate it as much as you, of course, because most people get the sweet release of death after, whereas all you get is a lifetime of headaches and the burning desire to track down a motherfucker in a checked suit.





	Exception

**Author's Note:**

> just something quick because ive been thinking about the truly strange way you can interact with benny in FNV. You track down the man who attempted to kill you, arguably the main antagonist for a good chunk of the game, and rather than getting your revenge, you can just...... have sex with him...... and then later you rescue him from another faction and can just. let him escape. after which he totally disappears from the game. is it narratively satisfying? absolutely not. it wouldn't work in any other medium. but it 100% appeals to the bizarre part of my brain that wanted to do all those things.

No one likes getting shot through the head.

Few people hate it as much as you, of course, because most people get the sweet release of death after, whereas all you get is a lifetime of headaches and the burning desire to track down a motherfucker in a checked suit.

Truth be told, your memory from before the shot never really recovers. You might have a family. Hell, maybe you're married. But all that fills your blank mind is that damned man and his suit and his cold-blooded smile, his odd slang, his straight teeth and his weird metaphors and the way you felt the sand beneath your hands as you waited for your death. He's all you have. You hate it, you loathe it, but you can't escape it, can't escape him.

What is there to do but track him down?

You're going to kill him. It's the thought that motivates you through the sleepless nights and harsh days. You're not a true-born killer - you only shoot in the heat of the moment, when it's a real life or death type standoff - but for him, you'll make an exception.

~*~*~

You really do intend to kill Benny. Honest.

You even sneak a little gun into the Tops - it's barely a pea-shooter, but it'll do the job. Right between the eyes, just like he got you. 

Then you see him, and all your plans get put on hold.

It's not that he's handsome (average at best) or that he's especially charismatic (he's rambling and stalling for time, old-school slang tripping over itself). He's not impressive like he was in your memory.

Somehow, instead of shooting him, you end up following him up to his penthouse suite.

By now his fear and your anger have both given way to arousal. You definitely shouldn't be doing this, some vague part of your brain thinks, but you're too busy losing yourself in the heat of what you realise is your first kiss since being shot. Benny practically melts against you. He tastes nice, of mint, and he kisses nice too - the whole thing is bizarrely sweet, as if the two of you are lovers, not… not whatever you are.

The sex is messy and uninhibited. You have no frame of reference - this is the first time you've fucked anyone since losing your memory - but you're sure people don't usually speak so much, and you should definitely not be finding Benny as charming as you do.

He wraps himself around you and falls asleep almost the second after he finishes, which is such an idiotically trusting move that you're stunned. He snores. It would be so, so easy to kill him.

You do not kill him.

In the morning he's gone (clever man) and he's written you a note so absurd you can't help but fold it up and keep it in your pocket.

~*~*~

Benny, it turns out, was not playing around.

He was on the brink of taking control of all New Vegas. You can't help but be impressed when you try to unravel all his plotting and realise just how much effort had gone into it all; he was so close, and it brings a grim satisfaction to know that you were the one who snatched it all away.

Benny was unarguably more ambitious than you, too. Sometimes you wish he was still around. Not _ really _ (he'd probably stab you in the back), but it would be helpful to have...

What does it matter? You'll never see him again.

~*~*~

It's like the universe is taunting you, you think when you find Benny tied to the muddy ground and not far off begging for his life.

You've seen crucifixion; it's not pleasant. The mental image of Benny up on a cross sends an unpleasant feeling to your stomach that you have no wish to analyse further. It doesn't matter, anyway - you've not come here to negotiate.

Once the last of the Legionaries are dead, you turn to Benny.

He watches you warily. He's an intelligent one, that Benny, not as stupid as his flashy suits and funny phrases made him look. There's the smell of blood in the air and it's all over your hands as well. You kneel in the dirt beside him. This close, you can see the pain in his eyes, the pallid sheen of his skin and the way he bites at his lip before speaking. "You're a scrapper, baby, they didn't stand a chance." He offers a weak grin. "How about me?"

You lean closer, so the two of you are face-to-face with your noses almost touching. Looking into his eyes, you realise that you like Benny. That's the reason you can't seem to kill him; you like him alive, and for the life of you, you can't hang onto a grudge like you should. How can you hold a real hate for one man with a gun when, given half a chance, there were scores of people who'd do worse? At least Benny never nailed you up on a cross.

"You're giving me the heebie-jeebies, pussycat. I don't know if you're 'boutta stab me or french me."

"How about I untie you?"

"That works, that's groovy, you get to that."

True to your word, you loosen the knots until you can pry his hands free. His skin is warm beneath yours. Benny watches with a smile that won't quite leave his face. He must know he's a lucky bastard - you're not usually this merciful, after all, but he simply accepts your kindness and rubs at his wrists.

Just to spite him, you press a quick kiss against his lips before you stand up.

He pulls you back onto the ground and then you're kissing for real, and it feels nice, far too nice for the circumstances. Even when you start biting at his lips, it feels more playful than angry. He slides his hands down your sides and you shiver in response. 

Then he has to go and ruin it by opening his mouth. "Guess more of your grey matter's out decorating the Mojave than even I peeped."

"I have no idea what you're trying to say," you tell him.

"Brains, baby, I'm sayin' you left yours out in the desert."

You sigh. "Probably. I should shoot you through the head a dozen times over, but I'm not gonna, you understand? Don't ask why. Just run. Get outta here."

"Hey, I'm not lingering."

"Go!"

"You're a real 18-karat cat, don't you forget it," Benny says, and then he's off.

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is [xenixat](http://xenixat.tumblr.com) :^)


End file.
